The Stare
Wistful flakes, plunging down
on vines of Birch and Ash.
Signs of Witches in this winter ballet.
Her familiar stares..
as if to say goodbye.
Gleaming yellow eyes
of mystic stolen dreams.
Fly with me..
fell the coldness.
Walk with you..
into the unconscious.
Meet your madness..
through the strengths.
Of hardened souls.
Stare Raven, Stare forever.
Copyright © Daysha Detienne | Year Posted 2018
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